Page 43 of Fall
“Right, then. Cari, I’ll meet you back here. Don’t wander off. I need you out of here before nightfall.” He kisses his sister on the cheek and whispers in her ear. “She’s not like them.”
I look at Carina, whose eyebrows are as high as mine. She glances over at me and then pivots towards Sal. “I’ll be right here waiting for you, Salvador. Just like Mama is waiting for her long lost son to come home.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been busy.”
“You’re always busy.” She swats his arm as he walks away. “Mama misses you. Papa just wants to beat you at cards again.”
Sal waves his hand in the air like he’s swatting a fly. “Later.”
An awkward silence creeps in when the door closes behind him. Carina pivots to face me and folds her arms with serious set brows scrunched above judging eyes. “What does the name you gave the jaguar mean?” She weaves around the low table and stops at the armrest. Her exotic scent hits me, and I find glossy caramel skin prickled from the air conditioning.
“It's a Scottish word for warrior. I thought it was appropriate.”
I’ve encountered mean girls before. Girls who picked on the odd one out. A gaggle of snobbish teens who snickered behind their hands when I walked into the room. Huntresses who verbally annihilated the different kids to place themselves higher in the social ranking. I was far from weak back then. If anything, their taunts and jeers made me more determined to succeed. I stuck up my middle finger from the window of my aircraft in a singular gesture to each one of them. It was my smug way of getting revenge and flipping off those girls as I boarded a flight to Brazil to follow my dreams.
Carina’s inhospitable welcome implies suspicion. Not rivalry. Fidgety fingers grooming the lengths of her hair tell me she’s timid and weary. A delicate butterfly in the mouth of a wildcat.
Sable lengths map her shoulders, agitated by a brusque shake of her head. “You need to let him go.” She unfolds her arms and shelves her hands on her hips. “He belongs in the jungle with his mother.”
I sit upright, matching her frosty glare. “I know he does. Sal gave me his word that he’ll set him free once I leave.”
“That's good.” She runs her tongue along her upper lip. “He said you were injured, too. That you had a scar on your face.”
I turn my cheek and tilt my head. “It's mostly healed now. If you look close enough, you’ll see it.”
“Yet, you’re still beautiful.” Her comment takes me by surprise. “Now I understand,” she adds.
My brows snap together. “Understand what?”
“You suit each other.” The woven bag drops to my feet. “He’s gorgeous, and you’re his equal. I hated girls like you when I was younger.”
I bring my attention to the fingertips constantly patting her lip. It’s a nervous reaction. A subconscious check for a past defect.
“Carina…” I begin, aware of the few years age-gap and her tragic past. We’ve all gone through shit. Not just her. That doesn’t give her the right to cast me into the mold of a villain.
“I’m talking about the pretty, popular girls.” She cuts me off. “The bitches who made fun of me every day. Picture perfect girls who had the pick of any guy they wanted. They were gifted with beauty, and I was cursed with a grotesque growth above my lip. You’re just like them. Stunning. Lucky. And you’ve caught his attention.”
Out of everything she just said, my temper ignites at one word. “Lucky?” I say with a growl. “You don’t know a thing about me. Don’t stand there acting like the victim when you’re the one who looks like a swimwear model. So you had a growth once upon a time.” I shrug. “Now you don’t. In fact, your lips are amazing, and your Cupid’s bow is perfectly defined. Jackson clearly worked a miracle.” Her lashes spring upwards. “I can’t change the curls in my hair, extend my legs a few inches or erase my ugly freckles. And I’m certainly not the slightest bit lucky.” I pause a second to breathe. “And I don’t have his attention anymore. We both know he’s not here.”
She plonks down beside me, bends her legs at the knees and tucks the heels of black sandals to her buttocks. Being so close, I detect a thread thin scar edging her lip line.
“Do you really like my lips?” Cautious fingers cage her mouth as she processes my rant. “Jackson used filler to even them out after the operation. It was a gradual process. I still wake up in the mornings and forget it’s gone. I have nightmares about that horrible thing. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. The one thing el Fantasma and I have in common is our trust issues.” She dabs the corner of her mouth as she laughs lightly. “Would you believe I’ve never had a stranger tell me my lips are amazing?” Her judgement disappears and a ghost of a smile plays behind her fingers.
“He did a great job.” I tell her the truth. “It sounds like we both had a hard time with our own differences.” She nods gently. “Anyway, we aren’t strangers. I’m friends with Sal. So that makes us allies.” In the end, it doesn’t even matter what we are to each other.
Carina plucks a messy spiral from my shoulder, pinching it between her thumb and forefinger. “I can see why he’s fascinated with you.” Her intimate gaze runs the length of my hair. “When Sal told me your face was cut, I felt sorry for you. I thought el Fantasma pitied you more than anything.” She lets it go. “I don’t know what I expected, but when I saw you sitting here… I was shocked at how striking your features are. You aren’t ugly or ruined. And then I realized el Fantasma doesn’t look at you with sympathy. He’s attracted to you.”
I almost laugh, feeling less insulted by her explanation. It couldn’t have been easy dealing with a visibly intrusive birthmark. At least I wasn’t the only girl in school with flaming red hair. “Are you in love with him?” I don’t want to hear the answer, yet I ask the question, anyway.
Her brows pop up. Dark tips flick out when she flips her hair behind her back. “God no. I used to have a crush on the guy a long time ago. He gave me a life I never thought I would have. Opened doors for my future. But…” Her eyes sparkle. “We met when I was a young teenager. He’s never looked at me that way. Anyway, the guy is way too old for me.” She giggles. “El Fantasma is my mentor and only friend. I care about him a lot. Nothing more than that. I asked him one day why he didn't want a girlfriend. And you know what he said?” I shake my head slowly. “I’ll never find a woman to love who is worthy of my trust. And if she exists, I pray we never meet.” Carina mocks his deep voice. “I guess he found you after all.”
“Yeah, unfortunately for both of us, fate had other ideas.”
Carina stretches out her legs. She folds her torso and drags the bag onto the couch. “I’ll take the cub while you check out what I picked for you.” She reaches across and scoops Laoch into her arms. The absence of his heat runs shivers through me. “I wasn’t sure what size you were, so I went for dresses. You can’t go wrong with a dress, right?”
I tug on the drawstring and pull out floral material after floral material. “I only need one.” I smirk. “How many did you bring?”
“Take them all. Like I said, I don't have any female friends. It feels weirdly liberating to share them with you. And let’s be honest with each other, Iris. If you travel in what you’re wearing now, you’ll turn heads––for the wrong reasons. I’m guessing Sal dressed you?” Her girly laugh stirs a smile even though I shudder on the inside. There’s no need to correct her. It’s Dante’s tee covered in Laoch’s blood and my sweat clinging to the fibers after he made love to me for the last time.
